He Has Not Died In Vain
by InspireRebelLoveTravelLiveKnow
Summary: He looked up at the cloud night sky again. 'My last look… might as well cherish it…' he stared up at the stars, who always seemed to beckon him. Rated T, for suicide. America, Canada, and a tiny bit of England


~I'M READY TO FALL…~

He looked up at the cloud night sky again. _My last look… might as well cherish it…_ he stared up at the stars, who always seemed to beckon him.

"Matthew." He ignored the voice, listening to only the stars. He only wanted to listen to them, their sweet voices, singing to him. 'Join us, join us, and be with us finally.' He sighed, taking in the city air, the smell of car fumes mixed with vender food. The air was heavy, but this was expected. "Mattie, listen to me." He shook his head, pushing his brothers voice away. He knew Alfred would try to stop him. And if anything, it would make him change his mind. He continued to listen to the stars. Their bright gleam mirrored the life in Matthew's eyes. _Eyes that are rarely seen. Not even by dad…_he bit his lip, wondering why he chose to be this way. Why he was silent. Why he had gone mute so many years ago. He knew the answer. _Because nobody sees me…_the bitter thoughts ran through his head. _Who would listen to ME? Matthew Williams… Who? Oh, Alfred's little brother. I didn't know he had a little brother. Me neither. _He slowly turned to face his brother, whose eyes reflected pain and worry. He watched his brother say something, but he blocked out the sound. He didn't need to listen to the 'hero' speak anymore. He didn't need to hear anymore from his brother. Just…. One more look at him, that was all. He took in his brother's image. The one person who actually saw him. Who actually knew who he was. The one person that would ever love Matthew Williams. He studied his brother's bright blue eyes, which shone like the sky on a bright summer day. His hair, perfectly golden like Matthew's himself. He took in the freckles that were seemingly strategically placed on his brothers tan face. He took in his father's old bomber jacket, and the superman t-shirt it covered. The faded blue jeans and the bright red converse sneakers. He was going to miss his brother. He saw his brother step forward, a silence falling over them. His brother held out his hand. He knew that it was one way or another. Take Alfred's hand… continue on with the way things were. Or… or there was the alternative. The reason that he was standing on the edge of a roof in the middle of a crowded city… he stared hard at his brother's hand. It felt like ages. What was he going to do? Take his brother's gesture… or… he looked up, _I love you…I know you cant hear me, Alfred. I know nobody can. In fact, I have forgotten how it feels to speak. I don't know what my voice sounds like anymore… but I might as well try…_

"Please… Alfred…" he said, quietly, causing his brother to crack a smile. He was surprised at how… similar their voices sounded… "Please promise me, that you will never forget me." With that, he let himself fall backwards. The air wisped around him, making him freezing to a point that it hurt. He let his head fall back as he said his final goodbye to the world. _I love you…_his world went black.

~I THOUGHT HE WOULD TAKE MY HAND…~

That's when it hit him. His brother… his brother who was the only person he actually felt anything for… the one who had let him be the hero… who had given him the life he had now… he was dead. He didn't cry. Instead, he ran. Not to the street, like people would think. But to his own room, down three floors into the apartment building. He slammed the door, and turned, facing the wall. He let his head fall to it, tears flowing fast. He reached up and slammed his fist into the wall, hard enough for it to go through, into where his brother's room was. This just made it worse. He stood there, chest heaving, hard sobs leaving him, as he finally let the truth sink in. his best friend… the only one who really understood him… his twin brother… his OTHER HALF… he shook his head, locking his door and going to lay on his bed. _How come… when it was real… when it was actually real, I couldn't bring myself to be the Hero? Why did it have to be Mattie? _He didn't know how loud he was being, nor did he care… nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. Never again would he be able to really enjoy something… he sighed as he came to his conclusion. Grabbing a piece of paper off his desk, he wrote…

Never expect life to be worth living.

Cherish the moments you have,

The people you love

And tell them you love them. 

I'm sorry I have to leave you…

But my other half is gone. 

I watched it fade away. 

Now you watch as I do as well.

~MY LIFE HAS BEEN RUINED…~

That night, Arthur Kirkland came home from his job. He always worked late. There were police in his apartment, holding a note, and motioning in sorrowful silence for Arthur to follow them. They lead him into his son, Alfred's room, to reveal him hanging, dead, from a belt in his closet. They handed him the note, and explained how his other son, Matthew, had jumped off the side of the building earlier that morning. This was the day that Arthur Kirkland went mad.

~AUTHORS NOTE…~

I had a depressive spark… sorry. ^O^

Please review.


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